by Linda Broday
How would they treat her when they discovered the truth? She shuddered to think.
“I want to throw a celebration party for you and Duel. A welcome home sort of thing for Duel and a chance for you to get acquainted with the townsfolk.”
A party? Panic swept through Jessie.
“I don’t think Duel—”
Vicky didn’t let her finish. “Saint Paddy’s Day is next week, and that would be perfect.”
“Shouldn’t you ask him first?” Jessie managed weakly.
“Pooh on him. He’d only throw a wet blanket on it.”
“I don’t have anything suitable to wear.” Jessie groped lamely for excuses. A wet blanket wasn’t all she suspected Duel would throw. She hadn’t known her new husband long, but he didn’t appear the social kind…or one who’d cotton to unwelcome surprises.
“You’re about Annie’s size. Her clothes are still here. If they don’t quite fit, you could alter them.”
“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right to desecrate her memory. Besides, Duel hasn’t given me leave to wear them. The loss is still very painful for him.”
“He probably hasn’t gotten around to it.” Vicky waved her arm, dismissing her brother’s lack of good grace. “You know menfolk. If it doesn’t have anything to do with a horse, food, or whiskey, nothing else crosses their mind.”
“The party’s a nice gesture, but we really couldn’t. Not now. Maybe later on when we get settled in.”
For all the attention Vicky paid, Jessie wondered if she had a hearing problem. “No better time than the present. You need to meet the people you’ll be living amongst. I won’t take no for an answer.”
She had to give Vicky one thing—persistence. One by one, the woman had steamrolled all of her pleas. Doom lurched in the pit of Jessie’s stomach.
“Next Saturday at our place,” Vicky said with a decisive nod. “We’ll have a barn dance.”
Nine
“She what?”
Jessie grimaced at Duel’s explosion. They were seated at the kitchen table while Marley Rose played with the wooden spoon at their feet. Though the last of daylight had faded, painting the sky a dark blue, this was her first opportunity to tell him of Vicky’s visit. He’d returned from town with Walt McClain in tow and begun clearing and plowing the fields. She hadn’t spoken to him since early morning when he’d taken Cinnabar.
“Vicky wants—”
“I know full well what that sister of mine wants—to drive me loony. A party, of all things! What in hell’s the matter with her?”
Duel was fit to be tied. His face had turned three shades of red, and irritation flashed dangerously from his eyes. She reminded herself never to cross him.
“I tried to tell her we didn’t want anything like that. I even warned her that you’d be against it. She wouldn’t listen.”
“You can talk to a stump and get better results. When Vicky gets a bee in her bonnet, there’s no getting it out.” He calmed a little now that he’d aired his lungs. “I’m not blaming you, Jess. That sister of mine is sneaky. She took advantage of my absence to lay her plans.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked miserably. “Everyone will have questions. I can’t reveal where I came from, what I did, and keeping silent will draw more suspicion.” She twisted the hem of her apron with cold fingers.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Duel gentled his tone. “Don’t worry. We’ll sort everything out.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched him reach out to touch her arm. The yearning for that simple bit of warmth made her pulse leap. When he pulled back his hand, the room suddenly became a dreary place.
What if he couldn’t stop his sister? It would take a powerful lot of persuading to get that woman to change her mind. In fact, Jessie seriously doubted he, or anyone for that matter, could. She’d better develop an alternate plan—one that would probably contain more than a few falsehoods.
“Did the buffalo hunter take Cinnabar?” Wrenching ache for the animal’s fate had stayed with her the entire day. Surely the good Lord would see fit to give the sorrel a good home. But she doubted He’d listen to any prayers from her. She’d murdered a man, broken the most sacred commandment.
“He did.” Duel must have seen the worry in her face. “I warned him he’d better treat her good or he’d have me to answer to. The man seems a decent sort—just smelly.”
Marley Rose grabbed her skirt, pulling on it to stand up.
“Pa pa.” The girl waved the spoon and jabbered, getting their attention. “Pa pa.”
“Sure sounds like she’s trying to talk to you.” Jessie couldn’t help mentioning it, smoothing Marley’s boisterous dark curls.
“Don’t put words in the child’s mouth, Jessie.”
“For a second today I thought she was going to take her first step. She thought about it, then got scared and sat down.”
“Is that so? Ain’t it too early for that sort of thing?”
“I figure she’s almost a year old. It’s time.” Jessie scooted away from the table and steadied the girl. “See if she’ll walk to you.”
Duel pushed his chair back and held out his hands. “Come to me, Marley. Come here, darlin’.”
“Pa pa.”
“I’m not your pa, darlin’. I’m Duel. Can you say Duel?” He remembered a treat he’d bought at the general store earlier and fished it out of his pocket. “Look what I’ve got.”
Marley relaxed her grip on Jessie’s finger. She put one foot out and teetered on legs of jelly.
“Come and see what Duel has for you, darlin’.” He waved a red lollipop, enticing her.
The little girl took one step, then another. Halfway there, she lurched, launching herself into his waiting arms. He set her on his knee.
“She walked, Duel! Do you always use bribery to get what you want?”
His amber gaze slipped past the barrier she’d built and made itself at home somewhere in the region of her heart. The intensity of the moment made her catch her breath.
“Works every time.” His slow drawl heightened the mood.
Jessie tried to tear her gaze away, but found it impossible. Something different shone in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before. He was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time—as if she were special, almost as if he thought she were pretty.
“I’ll try to remember that.” Her answer came out husky and broken.
“Paaaaaaa.” Marley Rose fractured the moment, holding the dripping lollipop to Duel’s mouth.
“Oh, no. You eat it, sweetheart. I don’t want that thing in my mouth.”
Red lollipop juice stained his lips, giving them a lush ripeness. Dangerous thoughts flitted through her mind before she could lasso them.
In self-defense, Jessie began clearing the table. If she took her time, he’d stay longer before he went to the barn.
“Will you keep Marley company until I get the dishes washed?”
He glanced up, and she wished she hadn’t spoken. Why did his mouth have to look so darn alluring? The man was in love with a memory. For God’s sake, he couldn’t bear to sleep in the house with her.
“I suppose.” He tousled the top of Marley’s head. “That all right with you, Two Bit?”
A smile stretched across the child’s sticky face, and she gurgled happily.
“We’ll get out from under your feet.” Duel lifted his pride and joy and made for the rocker.
By the time she finished and untied her apron, soft snores drifted from the other room. She tiptoed in.
Marley snuggled in the crook of Duel’s arm, the lollipop resting on her chin. She was fast asleep, her hand lying trustingly on his broad chest. Duel’s head tipped against the back of the rocker, snores coming from his half-closed mouth.
A warm contentment waltzed through her. And keeping time on its arm floated hope. Jessie sat watching the two—a father and his child. For no matter how hard he fought it, the little girl had stolen his heart.<
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Thick, dark lashes brushed her Texan’s high cheekbones, raven’s wings flush against fine granite. Honor and promise-keeping lived inside this gentle giant. Surely no knight ever worked harder in the quest for right and goodness.
Clearing the land of rocks and brush had totally exhausted him. Planting time would be gone before they knew it, thus the hurry to plow and plant the seed. Walt had done what little he could to help, regardless that his bum leg hadn’t allowed for much stooping or bending.
Tomorrow she would be out there by Duel’s side. After all, the crops would benefit her the most—perhaps clear her name. If she could live out her life with Duel and Marley Rose, she wouldn’t ask for anything else. A lump slid into place in her throat. She wouldn’t even ask for love.
Duel shifted and murmured in his sleep. Words that sounded an awful lot like “Annie.” Jessie slipped from the chair and went to get Marley.
The child never stirred when Jessie took the lollipop, washed the stickiness off the girl’s face, and laid her in her bed. If Jessie were able to have children, she’d want them to be exactly like Marley Rose.
After kissing her plump cheeks, Jessie crept back to the man in the rocking chair. Careful not to awaken him, she unfolded a blanket and draped it around him. The urge to brush a lock of hair from his forehead almost became too strong to resist. Curiously, she wondered what his hair felt like. But instead of giving in to temptation, she lowered the wicks on the lamps.
Her bed didn’t seem nearly as cold and lonely when she crawled between the covers. Tonight she would rest better. Duel’s soft snore in the next room was strangely comforting.
*
Duel had a hard time facing Jessie over breakfast the next morning. He’d acted like a randy stallion—unable to take his eyes off her. On top of that, he’d fallen asleep only a heartbeat or two away from her. The last thing he wanted was to cause her more anguish. It had been well past midnight when he woke and stumbled to the barn.
“Sorry I fell asleep on you last evening.” He sopped a biscuit in a pool of sorghum on his plate and bit into it, avoiding her calm look. “Didn’t mean to.”
“It’s your house, Duel. Way I see it, you can do as you darn well please in it. If anyone sleeps in the barn, it should be me. No reason for you to make all the sacrifices.”
Her clear gaze nearly stole his breath. With every day her bruises faded more. She grew more beautiful—and kind-hearted. She’d cut off her right arm rather than admit she couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him, much less the same house. Her offer to trade places with him proved that his presence upset her. Only, he wondered what had caused the becoming pink flush on her cheeks.
“The arrangements are satisfactory…for now.” Why did his voice have to get husky all of a sudden? And why just now did he have to remember the taste of her skin? “Better this way.”
Was he mistaken, or did the light just go out of her eyes? His chair scraped against the floor as he stood. Marley’s sweet babbles from the other room let them know she’d awakened.
“Two Bit’s up. Gotta get busy. Burning daylight,” he murmured. “First I’ll go threaten Vicky with her life if she goes ahead with this damn party. Pop asked me to come get him, anyway.”
Jessie followed him to the door, where he paused to lift his hat from the nail.
“I’ll have Marley fed by the time you get back. Today I’ll help you in the fields.”
“You don’t have to.” He kept his gaze fastened on his boots.
“It’s my choice.”
*
Come nightfall, Duel didn’t have strength left even to smile at Marley’s antics. He ate a hurried supper and staggered to the barn. Lying on the straw bed, he remembered Jessie’s terrified look when he gave her the news that he hadn’t had any luck with Vicky. His sister was hell-bent on having that damn social. Nothing he’d said put a dent in her determination. It appeared they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
He assured Jessie they’d invent a plausible story before the event. Not that he had a clue what that would be. A muscle jerked in his jaw. He’d protect her if he had to tell every lie known to man. In some crimes there were only victims, and Jessie’s case was one of them. One had merely to see the brand on her shoulder to know that much.
His lady had certainly done her share today—lifting rocks, chopping small trees, plus keeping an eye on Marley, and cooking. There had been a closeness in their combined efforts. And when she brought him lunch in the field, it reminded him of the first day they’d spent together, the day she washed his shirt in the stream. Sparked that same intimate feeling. Yes, his Jessie was remarkable.
“Spooky though how she kept popping up at my elbow when I least expected it,” he muttered into the still air.
He could’ve done a darn sight more if he hadn’t had to keep one eye on her whereabouts.
“I seem to have a hard time remembering this sisterly business. Especially when she turns those darn eyes on me.” Duel plumped the hay that served as a pillow and lay back.
Pop liked her. Every other word to come out of Walt’s mouth today pertained to Jessie. In fact, Duel had a devil of a time getting the man to go home.
“I’ll sleep in the barn, son. Save time tomorrow. You won’t even know I’m around,” he’d said.
Slim chance of that. He couldn’t let his father suspect their strange sleeping arrangements. It’d arouse too many whys and wherefores that he’d sooner not answer right now.
“No, Pop. With your gimp leg, you need to sleep in a warm bed. Take Preacher and come back at daylight.”
“But, son—”
“No buts. I insist.” Not that he blamed his father one bit for finding any excuse to avoid the Austin household. Though Duel loved his sister dearly, she could drive a man to drink with her mulish disposition.
Only after he’d exhausted his supply of excuses had Walt finally given up. Yep, his father thought the sun rose and set on his new daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Duel vowed to do his level best to make sure that opinion never changed. Even if he had to rope the wind to do it. That woman and little girl deserved a whole lot more out of life than what they’d gotten. For a fact.
Sleep finally overtook him, and he felt himself drifting on a soft cloud. Damn, it felt good to relax.
The bleating of a goat sounded very far away. Strange thing to dream about. Suddenly something licked his face, and his eyes flew open. He stared into white goat whiskers.
“Darn your ornery hide! Can’t a man get some sleep?”
The nanny chewed calmly on his hay bed as if she hadn’t a care in the entire world. “Bleh.”
Thoroughly aggravated, he kicked the blanket aside and snatched the rope, the end of which dripped with goat slobber.
“You mangy critter, you chewed the rope in half!”
Wearily raising the wick of the lantern, he dragged the animal into her stall. This time he made sure she couldn’t reach the tether, and reinforced the knots.
“There, maybe that’ll hold you. If you get loose again, we’ll have roasted goat for supper tomorrow night.”
That’s when he heard the whimpering sound. At first he thought it might be an owl, but the sound coming from inside the barn grew clearer.
Alert, he followed the noise, holding the light high. Could be a cougar. His right hand stole to his hip where the forty-five usually hung, before he remembered he’d left it on the hook inside the house. Grabbing a pitchfork, he proceeded carefully.
Huddled in a ball in the corner of Preacher’s empty stall lay a dog, some kind of retriever.
“What’s wrong, boy?”
Duel leaned toward him for a closer examination. The pitiful sounds coming from the animal’s throat made him ache inside.
Using the most gentle tone he knew, he tried to reassure the frightened dog. “Easy now. Are you hurt?”
He knelt down and slowly stretched out his hand. Wild fright glittered in the retriever’s eyes as he yel
ped, then retreated as far as he could.
Fear and distrust mingled with the dark shadows. From what he could see, blood matted the dog’s beautiful yellow fur, and one foot dangled uselessly. Gut feeling and the red trail on the floor told him the retriever was in a bad way.
Reluctant to push further, Duel backed away and leaned against the wall within sight of the animal warily watching.
“I’ll help you, but you have to trust me, boy.” The soft, soothing murmur must have worked. The retriever eased itself into a more relaxed position and became a trifle less wild-eyed.
“I won’t hurt you. Only want to fix you up. Bet you’re hungry, aren’t you? What if I go find you some food?”
When Duel stood, the movement alarmed the animal, and he again assumed a protective stance. Reminded him of Jessie.
“Hey, fellow, I’m not gonna hurt you. It’ll be all right. I’m coming back, so don’t go away.”
He quickly crossed the clearing. Once inside the dark house, he placed one foot silently in front of the other, careful not to awaken Jessie. A chair leg suddenly caught the toe of his boot and he stumbled. Damn!
“Who’s there?”
Ten
He froze. “It’s me. Duel.”
The faint scrape of a match sounded, then muted light illuminated the room. Jessie clutched the curtain partition as if it could shield her from attack. No doubt she hid her state of undress. The thought of bare skin made him uncomfortable.
From where he stood, disquiet and suspicion colored her eyes a deep indigo. He wished for a split second that he’d waited until morning.
“Sorry I woke you, Jessie. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He spoke to the toe of his boot, not daring to raise his gaze lest he encounter a chance peek through a thin night rail. “Go back to bed.”
“Did you forget something? Are you ill?”
“Came to get some food. I found a hungry, wounded dog in the barn.”
She dropped the curtain, and he was shocked to find her fully dressed. Did she distrust him that much?
“A dog? Is he hurt bad?” Instant concern replaced her apparent unease.
“Afraid so. Can’t tell exactly because the poor thing won’t let me near him, but he’s covered in blood. I just came to get some food. Thought that might calm him enough to look.”
